Middle-Earth Tales: Love Your Neighbor
by LeCinnamonTsundere
Summary: An LotR retelling of the Parable of the Good Samaritan, as recorded in Luke 10:25-37 in the Bible.


**Mae govannen, it's me, Raven! Somehow, I got this pretty decent idea after listening to a song from a TV show that I loved when I was a kid . . . and still love now - VeggieTales. So . . . I think I'll let the story explain itself.**

 **Notes: all Bible passages are from the ESV translation . . . or was it NIV? I forgot which, it's one of those.**

* * *

 _And behold, a lawyer stood up to put Him [Jesus] to the test, saying, "Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?" He said to him, "What is written in the Law? How do you read it?" And he answered, "You shall love the Lord your God with all you heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself." And He said to him, "You have answered correctly, do this and you will live."_

 _But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, "And who is my neighbor?" Jesus replied, "A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho [. . .]"_

 **OoOoOoOoO**

"I'll see you in a few months, Ada!" Legolas gave his father a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek before leaping nimbly up onto his horse.

"Have a good visit with your comrades in Rivendell, ion-nin," replied Thranduil, smiling back up at his son. "Give my greetings to Lord Elrond and Lady Celebrian . . . but for goodness' sakes, try not to get into too much trouble while you're there―and be careful on the roads―it's not as safe as it used to be."

"I'll be vigilant, Adar," Legolas assured him, patting the bow and quiverful of arrows slung over his shoulder. "And do not worry, I shall return home posthaste and unscathed!"

Despite his apprehensions, Thranduil could not stifle a small, wry chuckle at Legolas's cheerful confidence, watching as he rode off across the bridge into the forest on the path bound for Rivendell.

 **OoOoOoOoO**

And for a while, Legolas was certain he could keep his promise―his ride through Mirkwood proved uneventful, keeping to the path and taking rests when he felt it was both necessary and safe to do so. He set both his blue eyes to the task of wary sentinels, always watching out for spiders, Orcs, and other such disagreeable ilk, and his hand was often poised on his bow, at the ready for attack at any moment.

But no attack came, and for several days, Legolas traveled in peace through his father's kingdom and onto the great expanse between Thranduil's kingdom and Lord Elrond's.

As he and his mount trotted along the road, the young Woodland Prince tried singing a song to soothe his nerves and distract himself from that subtly seductive siren known as boredom. " _The Road goes ever on and on down the door where it began; now far ahead the Road has gone, and I must follow if I can_ ―"

He paused, wondering for a moment where he had gotten the tune, then he noticed that his horse had stopped moving. The animal's ears pricked straight up, as if hearing something nearby. Legolas's own sensitive ears heard a rather disconcerting noise as well―heavy footsteps attempting to tread softly on the dry grass of the plain.

 _An ambush!_ Just as the thought entered his consciousness, Legolas urgently hissed a command in Elvish for the horse to quicken his pace, as he drew an arrow from his quiver and notched it in his bow.

But before either one could move, the horse let out a whinnying scream and toppled over onto its side―a black-feathered arrow shot into its heart. Before the carcass could crush Legolas, the Elf swiftly leaped off its back, somersaulting away from the now dead animal as he prepared to fire at his now sighted target―an Orc archer rushing through the tall grass towards the horse's body.

Like a flash of lightning, a pair of muscular arms clamped around Legolas's chest, and another set of hands knocked the bow from his fingertips. Legolas struggled fiercely to break free, but the Orc only squeezed harder, threatening to completely cut off his breath if he fought further.

"Let go of me!" he shouted, twisting violently against his captor.

"Or you'll do what, princess?" one of the Orcs sneered, jestingly toying with Legolas's silver-blond hair as he kicked his bow out of reach. "Naw―lessee whatcha got in yer bag. 'And it over, or else me mate 'ere might just snap yer pretty neck."

The largest Orc loosened his hold on the Elf just enough to permit him to remove his satchel from across his shoulder. "An' the quiver, too, gimme it," the Orc archer demanded as the leader Orc snatched the bag. Legolas reluctantly unbuckled the quiver, wincing as the Orc's claws scratched his hand as he grabbed it from him.

"Don't scratch it up, we'll need it in good condition," the leader grunted, opening up Legolas's satchel and pawing through it. "Wot's these?" He took two carefully wrapped packages from the bag.

"Gifts for some friends," Legolas answered coldly.

Unwrapping the packages, the leader Orc smirked. "Pretty fancy gifts, ain't they?" The Wood-Elf bit his tongue as the Orc examined the necklace and book intended for the Lord and Lady of Rivendell with a disgustingly appraising eye. "Yeh must be mighty rich t'be givin' away trinkets like these, Elf."

"'Ee's prob'ly a prince―don't royal Elves have yellow hair?" The archer Orc yanked on Legolas's hair, provoking a yelp of pain from the young Elf.

"A prin _cess_ , more like," the leader sneered. Setting the bag off to the side, he nodded to the largest Orc. "You know what to do."

The large Orc roughly released Legolas, but before the Elf could get away, the three tackled him to the ground, pulling at his tunic and boots. The Orcs' fists and feet jabbed and kicked hard at him, and Legolas cried out in pain as they stripped off his tunic and undershirt, razor claws digging into his bare back and cutting long deep gashes into his skin.

The Orc thieves did not relent in their abuse of the Elf, beating and bruising him all over with their iron fists and feet. At one point, a knife was added into the fray, slicing Legolas's blond hair across his shoulders before an Orc snatched up the locks. Legolas felt himself almost lose consciousness, but he remained alert―just barely.

Finally, the Orcs drew back, admiring their handiwork. "Should we conk 'im?" the archer Orc asked.

"Naw―he'll be conked soon enough without it," the leader sneered. "Not so pretty now, are ya, princess?" He nudged Legolas's head with his foot.

Unable to reply through his bleeding, swollen lips, the Elf-prince looked weakly back up at him through a blacked eye and a gash dripping blood into his face. "I thought so." Smirking, the leader Orc shoved his head aside. "Stuff 'is clothes into the bag, and you, gimme yer cloak."

The archer Orc begrudgingly obliged, cramming Legolas's clothes and boots, along with the handful of long blond hair cut off during the fight, into the satchel before handing his leader his tattered cloak.

The leader Orc carelessly tossed the cloak at Legolas, then barked an Orcish command to his underlings. The three took off across the plain, making off like the thieves they were.

Once they had gone, Legolas drew up the last of his strength to pull the thin cloak around his stripped body. Then, drained from his wounds, the Elf fell unconscious at the side of the road.

 **OoOoOoOoO**

" _[. . .] and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead."_


End file.
